


They Who Speak in Hands

by eikuuhyo



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5204876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eikuuhyo/pseuds/eikuuhyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk, a mute child, has fallen into the monster world. What happens when they speak "in hands" to Sans?</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Who Speak in Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Suddenly came up with an AU at work about a non-gender specific Frisk, who is mute and can only communicate with sign language. I needed a quick break from my other fics, so I decided to pump this one out. Considering that this is an AU, I've taken some liberties of what happens on Frisk's walk from the Ruins towards Snowdin.

When Frisk fell through the unimaginable pitt located at Mount Ebott, they thought that their life was over. Young as they may be, they understood the concept of death and the seemingly endless fall made them brace for the worst... though in the end, they awakened upon a patch of golden flowers. A quick look up showed that their descent had been quite far, yet no permanent injuries seemed to be upon them, save for a few bruises and scratches.

From there, they met some curious individuals. One of them being a talking flower that seemed to want to hurt them soon after the first few minutes of meeting, and a gentle monster by the name of Toriel, who saved them from said flower. She was a motherly kind of woman that quickly took them under her wing. Frisk wanted to thank her for everything she'd done, but couldn't.

They were born mute, after all.

Seeing that Toriel or any of the monsters in the underground cave weren't capable of understanding Frisk's sign language, Frisk had to resort to acting out what they were trying to say. It worked for the most part, thankfully. They were successful in sparing monsters through exaggerated body motions and expressions, even when they had to face Toriel herself. That battle had been brutal and painful; Frisk not wanting to hurt Toriel led to some burns on their arms. However, no matter how resilient Toriel had seemed, she eventually gave in. She didn't have the heart to truly hurt the child.

Parting with Toriel had hurt. She had been so kind and like a mother Frisk never had, and had it not been for a sense of determination to return to the human world within them, they may have made the decision to stay with the goat monster for the rest of their life.

And now, the child was stepping outside of the ruins, fully into the monster world.

 

* * *

   
As Frisk pushes open the heavy gates of the ruins, they shiver as a cold gust of wind comes pouring in. Their breath is white as they brace themselves and step out into the snow casted... forest? They wonder as they continue to walk the white-silver path, the fresh snow crunching under their small feet, at how there is snow when this monster world is supposedly underground. Such thoughts are quickly lost though as Frisk encounters more playful monsters along the way. The sights, the atmosphere, the scent of butterscotch cinnamon pie coming from their belongings—everything is so remarkable to them.

It's only when Frisk reaches a rather... wide gate on a small bridge that they stop in confusion. The make of this gate seems like it should be some kind of barrier to keep others out, but the pillars are way too wide to stop any kind of monster, unless they were gargantuan.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoes from behind them. The entire forest seems to go quiet as just those sounds echo across the silent landscape. As quickly as the sound of footsteps came, they stop just as fast, and an unfamiliar voice reaches Frisk's ears. "...Human. Don't you know how to greet a new pal?" the deep voice rumbles. "Turn around and shake my hand."

The child hesitates for a second before slowly turning around. Their hand trembles as they keep their eyes on the ground in fear of what may be wanting, but when they grip this mysterious being's hand—

_**PBBBBFFFFFFFFFFFT!!** _

...A most undignified sound reverberates. That, was the sound of a whoopee cushion, if Frisk is not mistaken. Their expression goes from fear to confusion as they look up and see a rather short, smiling skeleton standing before them. The skeleton monster can't help but snort at the deer-caught-in-headlights expression on your face. "Heheh... the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. It's ALWAYS funny."

Seeing the smiling, jovial-looking skeleton washes all the tension that had built up until now, and Frisk giggles. No sound comes out of their throat, but their face lights up in a big smile at the ice breaker.

"Anyways, you're a human, right? That's hillarious. I'm Sans. Sans the skeleton."

Frisk smiles again and shakes the skeleton named Sans' hand once more, this time without the sound of the whoopee cushion. As Frisk steps back after the handshake, they wait in silence for Sans to continue on. The rustling of trees and Sans moving his foot about in the snow are the only things that are audible, until the skeleton speaks up again in slight discomfort. "So... you got a name, kiddo?"

The child mentally slaps their head at the question. Of course Sans was waiting for them to introduce themselves! Without much thought, Frisk smiles and begins spelling out their name in sign language. When they finish, they look up and see that Sans looks frozen where he stands. His smile has faltered a little in what seems to be shock.

"...Can you repeat that?" Sans finally mumbles.

Frisk nods and then introduces themselves through sign language once more. They make sure to spell out their name slowly for Sans to be able to see it, and when they finish, a smile is returned back to the skeleton. However, they feel at unease when they see the skeleton monster still standing like a deer caught in headlights. And for some reason, it seems as if one of his eyes has a slight hint of blue...?

Sans takes a deep breath once. He then quietly asks Frisk, "I need to ask you something... Do you know W.D. Gaster?"

Gaster? That name is unfamiliar to Frisk and they cock their head in confusion. Frisk returns a small headshake, to which Sans asks once more.

"Cross your heart, hope to die?"

A small, hesitant nod. There should be no reason to fear the skeleton before them, though a sense of immense pressure is coming from him—one that could be taken as threatening in a way. More uncomfortable silence reigns as the burning blue eye looks down on them... but thankfully, that tension does not last for long.  
In an instant, the blue hue is gone from his eye and a relaxed smile is returned to Frisk. More importantly, he takes the time to message back to Frisk with his hands.

_[Nice to meet you, Frisk.]_

Excited to see that someone finally understands their sign language, Frisk's face practically beams in the biggest smile the skeleton has ever seen.

"Heh, sorry about that, kiddo. I thought you might know an... acquaintance of mine," Sans apologizes in a laidback manner. "It took me some time to figure that you weren't pullin' my bone here. Plus, that hand-sign-thingy you're doing is a bit different from the one I know."

_[That's amazing though! How did you figure it out?]_

"Eh, magic?" Sans shrugs. "But enough about that. It must've been hard trying to communicate when people don't understand, right?" Sans offers a hand to Frisk again, which they happily take. "C'mon, I'll guide you from here. It'll at least make things easier when you go up against my bro Papyrus... whose, well, an afficcionado of catching humans."

Frisk giggles silently upon hearing that and seeing Sans shrug in a manner that showed he was not annoyed by his sibling, but rather had affection for his brother's shennanigans. Cold, skeletal hands clasp a warmer and smaller child's hand as the two begin walking down the snowy path.

The child is unsure as to what more will await them in this curious underground world, though they couldn't be happier to be able to travel through it with someone who can understand their own language. They do wonder who this other person—this W.D. Gaster—is, but such thoughts are quickly lost as they are told by Sans to hide behind a conveniently shaped lamp and watch as his brother Papyrus rushes into the scene.

Things sure are going to be fun, Frisk thinks, as they stiffle another giggle at Papyrus' more than enthusiastic personality.


End file.
